


In Darkness, Motion

by hibiren



Series: Jay's Gladnis Collection [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis Scientia, Blindness, Comfort, Feels, Gladnis, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Motion Sickness, Nausea, Pain, Post-Altissia, Sickfic, Vertigo - Freeform, [Ignis is hurting but Gladio makes it better], [in what time may have been between Altissia and the trainride out basically]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 01:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiren/pseuds/hibiren
Summary: Trying to adjust is difficult for Ignis, especially since his whole existence seems to be nothing but spinning, meaningless whirling that does nothing but make him feel like he's losing control, caught in a dizzying new darkness with no way to escape, and time moving on without him.





	In Darkness, Motion

Again, Ignis excused himself. Gloved fingertips traced the grain of the wall, flecks of peeling paint giving way to his touch. The bathroom was a short walk away and yet felt so distant. Everything felt so distant, unreal almost, since that fateful decision.

_What have I done?_

The words rang through his head like violent shouts, head tumbling, body struggling to remain upright as another wave of nausea hit. He’d been like this since his world went dark - the constant feeling of being adrift, lost, caught in a sea of night with no waves to bring him ashore.

The name for his symptoms was _motion sickness,_ wasn't it? But to Ignis it felt like something else entirely. It was, for once in his life, the feeling of being lost. Being lost in his own admittance of weakness. Unending darkness and with it, uncertainty. Tumbling face first into a world he could no longer be a part of in the same way. He felt useless knowing that he felt no longer able to serve Noctis in the way his title demanded and that alone was nauseating enough. He had failed.

Ignis’ hands sought the rim of the sink and traced along the curve to the faucet, where he turned the closest knob and listened as the sound of trickling water filled the room. One finger at a time he peeled the gloves from his clammy hands and placed them aside, feeling the iced chill of the water as it touched his skin, doing little to ground him. The same cold splashed against his face only kept him calm by a fraction. By the time a second handful worked into his skin he was trying as hard as he could to not let the wounded noises trapped inside of him free. Half-kneeling against the floor, Ignis’ hands clung to the rim of the sink bowl as if it were his only saving grace. As if praying, to whoever was out there, _save me from myself before I destroy someone else._

Paces away, outside the bathroom, the floorboards creaked, signaling someone’s approach. Since he was so close to the stairs he silently urged them to go away; he didn’t want to be caught in such a state.

Instead, the creaking paused, and the quiet sound of a sigh followed a brief knock on the door that Ignis knew he’d left open.

“You okay?”

Gladio.

“I’m…” What could he say? _Fine? I don’t know? Hurt? Please leave me alone?_ What _should_ he say? Any answer he’d give would be far from the truth. He couldn’t bear to lie. His defenses were wearing thinner by the day, but he knew his suffering paled in comparison to what the others had gone through. He’d just been foolish. Tried to play the hero, but it wasn’t his role to claim. And he paid the price for it.

Without any words, Gladio approached him slowly, kneeling, body warm - breathing, _alive._ Just a slight brush of his fingers against Ignis’ cold wrist was all he offered, and Ignis remained unmoving as Gladio continued trailing the touch down to his palm. Somehow Gladio managed to ease Ignis’ hand off of his grip on the sink. The accompanying squeeze was offered in comfort, what little could be done to reassure him in the moment. Ignis knew he couldn’t hide behind himself for much longer. The well-trained muscles in his face gave way as he fought to retain some sense of crumbling composure before the other man. He hated that he could still feel the way his eyes searched, straining fruitlessly to find Gladio’s face in the dark...

“I’m sorry. I just needed a minute to… recover.”

“I can get you some meds, if you need,” Gladio offered, and yet the tone in his voice seemed to say, _I know you don’t, but I’m here for you regardless._

Ignis managed a “no, thank you,” before his head began to spin again. It was as if the world whirled around him, rushing on in circles and grinding daggers into his head. The sensation would dissipate for a flash of a moment only to come back stronger, and Ignis nearly gagged upon its return.

Something shifted around, and the sudden warmth surrounding him could only be one thing; Gladio’s firm hands thankfully offered Ignis some form of shelter from himself. He sat somewhat awkwardly against Gladio’s lap and rested his head on the broad shoulder beneath his chin. The Shield’s hands rubbed gentle, soothing circles against his back, and like magic it kept the spinning daemons in his head at bay. Ignis’ hands found their way around Gladio’s waist and into the knitted fabric of his shirt, balling into fists as a silent plea to help him keep afloat in his own thoughts.

“Don’t tell the others,” Ignis begged, a barely-there plea. “The vertigo hasn’t subsided since…”

“You’re still healing.”

“I don’t want to be—”

“Don’t think about that right now, Iggy. Here…” After a moment, Gladio assisted Ignis to sit on top of the cover of the toilet seat, a better sitting space in the small bathroom. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

When Gladio’s presence was gone a short second after Ignis nodded his approval, the silence rung in his ears. It was something new to adjust to, the subtle, drawn-out yet high pitched undertone his life seemed to carry now. If asked at any other point, he’d shake his head and say it was nothing. But when alone, the ringing was deafening.

Another knock on the door brought Ignis back. He was relieved to hear Gladio, to feel his hands guiding Ignis’ to a cup. It was cold to the touch, and even colder against his lips.

“I thought some water would help,” Gladio offered as Ignis took a deep swallow, thankful for the chills that suddenly overtook his body, washing through him from the inside and down to his stomach, dulling the threatening acid-churn he’d been trying so hard to push aside.

“...Thank you.” After another drink, Ignis added, “I do feel somewhat better.” It wasn’t entirely false, but not entirely true - the spinning in his head had subsided for the moment, but the lingering discomfort and pain singing in his ears still remained. He just did his best not to let it show.

“You wanna go back to bed? It might help to get out of here.”

Once the offered glass of water was emptied, Ignis nodded, although uneasily. “I just don’t want to wake you if I need to…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence, as his body reminded him he was still dizzy and if he moved before he was ready it would likely be another unpleasant night stranded in the bathroom trying to keep himself contained.

“You know I’d take care of you. Doesn’t matter what time it is.” Once again, Gladio’s reassuring touch eased in circles against Ignis’ tense back. “I hate to see you like this, by yourself. If you need some company, I’ll come with you. I can’t sit on my ass when you’re sick and suffering like this.”

When another bout of dizziness hit, Ignis leaned back and closed his eyes tightly, struggling to breathe evenly until the feeling passed.

“I’ll be like this all night, if the last few nights are anything to go by.”

“How about I tell you a story? To take your mind off your… head, I guess. A distraction might be good.”

Past a nervous swallow, Ignis just shrugged and made a faint noise of consent.

“I finished a really good book recently. It was about a man who…” Gladio launched into a recollection of the tale, describing everything in such vivid detail, it was as if Ignis was traveling alongside the main character in his adventures. Gladio always had such a way with words, and yet, never seemed to make use of that talent. Ignis let himself be lost in Gladio’s soothing tone, the story fading off as Ignis focused instead on the rhythmic inflections, pauses, his enunciation, the way the words seemed to roll off his tongue as his natural storyteller rose from its hiding place within his mind.

After a while, Ignis found it too difficult to listen; it was like Gladio had hypnotized him into a state of calm, where his body, for once, and his mind, stilled and settled, like calming winds after a long storm. An unexpected but welcome remedy. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been moved back into a bed until Gladio settled a blanket atop them both, bundling the two in comforting warmth. Ignis silently thanked Gladio for his distraction, and thanked him again that it had been successful. For the first night that he could recall, he felt himself giving in to the urge to sleep, and felt safe doing so. Safe, calm, and unmoving, Gladio’s arms there to hold him and keep him from succumbing to the spinning of the world outside. He was on his way to healing.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't exactly remember how this fic idea came to mind, but I remember thinking "man, Ignis going blind would be the worst he'd have to be terribly dizzy trying to get used to the lack of sight and re-registering all his other senses"; coupled with imagining all the motion sickness and/or vertigo he'd be having (I can empathize with that as I have terrible terrible tinnitus and vertigo myself, my balance is way thrown off). I wondered how Ignis would deal with it...


End file.
